Harry Potter and the Fishie and Penguin
by xxcolorguardxx79
Summary: ...Who Ate Hogwarts. This story was written solely for the amusement of my cousin and myself. It is cracky, and contains the two of us as main characters. I know we are MarySues, that was the point. So, read at your own risk...
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** As stated in the summary, this fic is written as a present to my cousin. It wasn't really meant to be read by anyone else, but I don't really mind other people reading it. I DO, however, mind people flaming my fic for having MarySues or no plot. I am perfectly aware of this, the entire thing is a joke. If anyone but my cousin decides to read this, feel free to comment, but please don't flame. It would be rather pointless considering that I am perfectly aware of all the bad writing conventions used.

**Disclaimer:** Own nothing but the plot, if it can be called that, and the reworked versions of my cousin and myself.

**Chapter One**

Saraid sighed, mentally gathering all of her arguments. She had spent weeks on this, researching and asking subtle questions of family members and family friends. She was as prepared as she ever would be, and she only had a month left. Determination in her eyes, an almost disturbing shade of acid green, she marched into the kitchen, chin high and silver hair swishing behind her.

"Mom? Do you have time? 'Cause there's something I want to talk about..."

* * *

As she left the kitchen, Saraid was practically skipping. _YES! I did it! No stuffy tutors centuries old! No having to sit in the same lessons as my cousins for hours at a time and being expected not to strangle them! A chance to learn HUMAN magic, instead of just Fae! A chance to be surrounded by British people! A chance to go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!_

"Saraid." It was her mother. _Crap. Does this mean my arguments were for naught? Did she change her mind?_

"Yes, Mom?"

"You want to go so badly? YOU get to fill out the paperwork." He mother smiled evilly and turned back to the stove where various pots and pans simmered and emitted wonderful smells. Copper, of course. No Fae household would have cold iron, even if the family was as much human as Faerie.

Saraid shuddered. It was downright evil of her mother to force her, a girl of eleven years, to fill out the stacks of forms that would be required to apply for a new student just a month before the start of term. Thankfully, she had sent an owl (how ridiculous and conspicuous, but then again, wizards were humans, albeit magical ones) inquiring about the requirements soon after her birthday in March, and had even filled out some of the simpler forms. Now for the rest. She eyed the stack of parchment lying on her desk, shuddered once more, and set to work.

* * *

Young Saraid gazed at her surroundings with well concealed astonishment. The Wizarding World had nothing on the various Sidhe Courts, but it was more fantastic than anything else humans had ever come up with. Shaking herself, she passed among the wizards and witches bustling about. She was, of course, under illusion, like any other time she left her home. Silver ringlets now a brown mess of slightly frizzy curls. Unnatural green eyes a more normal shade of golden-brown. Tips of ears rounded instead of pointed. All in all, she looked like a normal, if overweight, young girl. Her 'human' form was heavily influenced by her human father and his family, making it easier to be consistent.

She moved with the crowds, wincing as the noise hurt her ears, sharper than any human's despite her illusions. Discreetly, she goggled at all the oddities she was presented with, from the wizards' attire _I am NOT wearing dresses!_ to their transportation _Brooms? Seriously? Oh well, weird flying's better than no flying._ Eventually, she ended up in front of the bank.

_Gringotts. Thankfully, the Fae use goblins for banking just as much as wizards do. This shouldn't be much of a problem._ Unfortunately, she spoke too soon. Apparently a human girl trying to access Fae vaults was Not Normal, and therefore suspect. After ten minutes trying to convince the goblin that it was in fact her key and not one she stole, she got mad.

"Can we continue this somewhere private?" she demanded, voice tight. The goblin relented, and she was shown into a small room off the main hall. "Look" she continued, "It's my key. My mom gave it to me so I could get money out of the family vault."

"Little girl," the goblin began, voice mocking, "this key opens one of the vaults belonging to a very old and powerful Fae clan. I don't know where you got it from, but it is obviously NOT yours." That was the breaking point for Saraid's admittedly short temper.

"You listen here! I-"

"Saraid?" Startled by the sound of her name, she whirled around to see a lovely young woman with dark hair, dressed in a simple yet elegant gown.

"Your Majesty!" cried the goblin, sweeping into a deep bow. "Why have you honored us with your gracious presence this fine day?"

"A distant cousin of mine sent word that her daughter would be visiting Gringotts today, and requested that I provide any assistance she requires. What seems to be the problem here?"

"This _human_ girl has a stolen key, one to a vault of a Fae Clan. However, the little liar insists that it isn't stolen and is, in fact, hers." The woman, Her Royal Majesty Sarah, Goblin Queen and Champion of the Labyrinth, merely arched a brow and turned to the girl, who suddenly looked rather calm.

"Auntie Sarah, it _is_ my key. Would I steal? Wait! Don't answer that! Ummm..." Saraid floundered, trying to find the words to prove her innocence in this case _without_ incriminating herself in something else.

The queen laughed. "Don't worry, I understand what you mean. You don't steal anything of real value, normally just art supplies."

The goblin looked gobsmacked. "But! Your Majesty! She's _human_! How-? Why-!"

No longer amused, the queen interrupted him, "Have you never seen a glamour before? Saraid is of the Howley Clan, the branch that live among humans. They can't exactly go about looking obviously inhuman, especially since most of them live among Muggles! Now will you my niece into her vault or not?" Tirade over, the queen glared at her subject, who quailed, and then hurried to bring the 'human' to her vault.

* * *

Laughing, the queen and her niece left the imposing bank. The elder of the two was now wearing simple, yet well made robes of a silvery shade. "So, what made you decide to try the Wizarding World, Saraid?"

"Boredom, mostly. That and if I had to put up with stuffy Fae purists for more than an hour or two, I'll probably remind people just _who_ we Howley are descended from." On the last sentence, the young girl's face darkened rather ominously. Disconcertingly, her face brightened a beat later. "Oh, and it's not 'Saraid' here. To obvious. I'm 'Sarah' now." the girl announced, grinning up at the older woman.

Her companion laughed. "Really now? Well then, us two Sarahs shall have to stick together! Shall we shop?" Grinning, the two set off, in step.

* * *

The two Sarah's sat outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, eating sundaes with their bags piled beside them.

"I don't see why I have to get robes! I don't wear dresses for anything but visiting court! Why would I wear one for a school? And their ugly to boot!" the younger raged.

"Hmmm... They are the uniform, but I suppose you could get them altered..." the queen trailed off at the gleam in her niece's eyes.

"YES! Let's see... the upper part of the sleeves should be tighter, but the bottoms should still flare out -it's easier to hide stuff in 'em that way. And the robe itself will be open, more like a long coat then a dress..." she trailed off, scrabbling through her pockets and producing a scrap of loose leaf and a pencil stub. The girl immediately started sketching out models.

Her aunt watched in amusement as the girl designed a modified uniform for the entire year, mumbling to herself as she went. A family the next table over, redheads, the whole lot of them, stared worriedly at the girl. She supposed her cousin's daughter might look a _little_ deranged, conversing with herself under her breath as she scribbled furiously at a scrap of paper. Noticing a close up of a pair of pants, she commented, "You know the uniform requires skirts for girls, right?"

Her niece gave her a dirty look. "And I care why? My mother can't get me in a skirt. There's no fucking way a bunch of idiots with no fashion sense will." The queen just shook her head, amused.

* * *

Sarah stared blankly at the brick divider between platforms 9 and 10. The ticket she was sent said 'Platform 9 ¾' which was rather ridiculous. She was starting to have second thoughts about attending school with wizards. Apparently, logic _wasn't_ to them. Oh, she could see the barrier built into the wall that allowed students through, her Sight wasn't _that_ bad, but she wondered how new students knew how to get on. It's not like most would automatically think to run into a brick wall.

Sighing, she pushed her trolley up to the barrier, and then casually continued walking, as if there was nothing but open space in front of her. She expected it to be quieter on the other side, away form the busy station of normal people. Instead, it was noisier, owls hooting, children screaming, and parents crying. Scowling, she hurried to the train, not even bothering to admire it, and started manhandling her stuff on.

She had been early enough that, despite all the people on the platform, most of the compartments were empty. Randomly picking one, she looked to make sure no one would sneak up on her, then quickly levitated her trunk onto the rack with Fae magic. Settling onto the seat, she reached into one of the big hidden pockets inside her altered robes and withdrew a little black furball.

Settling it into her lap, it uncurled enough to reveal itself to be a small kitten. When her pet opened its green eyes to stare reproachfully at her for waking it up, Sarah just grinned. "And how was your nap, Morrighan?" she cooed. The kitten blinked slowly at her. /It was just fine, until you woke me up./ came the reply, murmured into her head.

The girl ignored her familiar's ire, grinning. But as she opened her mouth to say something that would probably get her clawed, the door to her compartment slid opened. She blinked, confused for a moment at the double faces, before her Sight allowed her to identify two different auras. _Twins, then. Redheads, my age. Hmm... they look kinda familiar..._

"D'ya mind if we-" "-sit in here with you?" they asked, the one on the left, with a darker blue aura, starting and his brother, whose aura was almost sky blue, finishing. Sarah blinked, more confused by trying to match auras to faces than by the twin-speech. She gazed blankly at them for another moment, noting their slightly ragged robes and rather battered trunks.

"Not at all." was all she said, gesturing vaguely at the seats across from her. "But before you sit," she added, stopping them in their tracks, "you must tell me your names." They stared a moment, possibly thrown by her accent, before sharing a grin.

"Gred-" "-and Forge Weasley-" "-at your service!" "But what-" "-may we ask-" "-is your name-" "-dear girl?" they finished together.

Sarah didn't so much as blink. "I am Sarah Cerezo. And before you can ask, yes, I am from the States, New York, specifically, though I was born in Florida. No, I am not Muggleborn, my father is a Muggle, but my mother is from a very old magical family. Also, considering that I doubt even British witches would name their children 'Gred' and 'Forge', so I'll assume you are Fred, and you are George." she announced, pointing to each in turn.

They stared for a moment, before exclaiming in unison "How did you know?" Sarah smirked.

"Be specific. How did I know what you would ask? Or which of you was which?"

"Both!"

"For the first, they are questions that have been asked of me by just about every wizard I've spoken to since arriving here. As for the second, well. Your introduction was polished enough to have to be a long-running joke, meaning you two would have had to have made it up while you were much younger. Young children are very attached to their names, so it was a safe assumption that you would keep the first letters of your own names, and swap the rest. Basic psychology, really." she smirked at their gobsmacked expressions. The girl watched, amused, as the twins managed to restart their brains, and then proceeded to have a short, silent conversation that was half twin telepathy and half spastic twitches, before they turned to her once more with identically demonic smiles.

"I think that-" "-this is the start-" "-of a beautiful friendship-" "-don't you?"

"Perhaps." was her only reply, stroking Morrighan, who had merely watched the byplay. Startled, the twins exchanged looks. She had no idea whether it was because of her vague reply or because they had only just noticed the kitten, and wasn't rude enough to go poking around in their heads to find out.

"Cute kitty ya got there." Fred stated, though she had to check his aura to tell, and he reached out to pet the kitten.

"Don't-!" Sarah stared, but that was all she got out before the boy yelled, yanking his hand back, blood seeping from four parallel gashes on the back of his hand. "Sorry, I tried to warn you." she continued, not sounding very sorry at all. "Morrighan here can't stand anyone with a Y Chromosome, and doesn't bother to warn before she attacks."

That got her a pair of odd looks. "What's a chomysone?" asked George, examining his twin's hand. "And what does the letter 'y' have anything to do with me?" asked Fred, who was eying the smug kitten warily.

"What the hell? You don't know what chromosomes are? Please tell me you know how inheritance works, at least!" To be perfectly honest, the girl looked rather ill. The boys exchanges bemused looks.

"Well, the firstborn son of most Pureblood families normally inherit all the property and most of the businesses, while any younger sons are stuck with lesser businesses and possibly properties, and anything else their older brothers will give 'em." "Daughters can't inherit anything besides their dowries, and they only get control of them if they are still unmarried in their thirties." "Not that all families do it that way!" George hastily added. "Bill-" "-our oldest brother-" "has a steady job with Gringotts, so he won't get the Burrow-" "-that's our house-" "Charlie has a job lined up already in Romania, working with dragons, and Percy'll probly get a good job at the Ministry, so they'll be fine." "Dunno what Mum and Dad will actually do when the rest of us of age, though..." "There's seven of us, yanno. Bill's 18, Charlie's 17-" "-18 this December-" "Percy's 13, a third year." "We're 11, our little brother Ron is only 9." "And our only sister, Ginny, is 8."

"Hmph. My mom's one of seven kids too. And I didn't mean that kind of inheritance, though that's really Middle Ages of you people. I was talking about genetic inheritance. You know? DNA?"

"Huh?" was the only reply she got. Sarah fought to remain patient. She HATED stupid people, but Fred and George seemed pretty smart, just ignorant.

"Okay, I'll explain as simply as possible. Each person looks the way they do because they inherit characteristics from their parents. You get half of your traits form you mom, and half from your dad, that's why kids look like both their parents."

"Then why don't siblings look the same?" asked Fred, looking curious.

"Besides twins, you mean?" Sarah asked, wryly, getting sheepish grins back. "Well, each kid doesn't get the same mix of traits from their mom and dad." Realizing she had lost them, she though furiously before lighting up. She went to her trunk, an expensive one with multiple charmed compartments. The girl opened up one of them, the one she stuffed with her art supplies. Digging out a shoebox, she grinned with triumph and closed the lid of her trunk, dragging it over to use as a table.

She pulled small, brightly colored squares of clay out of the shoebox, deftly unwrapping them and handing a different color to each boy. "Here, it's clay. Mush it around for me? It needs to be softened some before I can use it." Exchanging bemused glances, they complied. When they became pliable, she took the hunks of clay back, separating each color into 10 pieces. The 10 dark blue pieces were molded into different shapes: cubes and spheres and circles and suchlike. She did the same with the crimson clay, making the same shapes as the blue.

"These," she said, gesturing to the blue shapes, "are your dad's traits. And these, "she pointed to the red pile, "are your mother's." She took one of each shape, so she had 10 pieces, some red, some blue. "This is one possible baby, with one of each trait, some from the mom, some from the dad." She put them back, and then grabbed another group. "This is another possible baby. Still all 10 traits, but some traits that the 1st baby got from its dad now came from the mom, and vice versa. The 2 babies will still look a lot alike, but not exactly the same. Identical twins, one the other hand, have exactly the same traits." Seeing George open his mouth to ask a question, she elaborated. "The two of you started out as one baby, with one set of traits. But you split, forming 2 babies, instead of just 1. And with you, your traits split too." Taking each clay 'trait', the impromptu professor divided them into half, reshaping each portion into 2 copies of the same shape.

"Then why aren't we only half the size of non-twins?" demanded one twin, she didn't look up so she knew not which.

"Well you weren't born right after being split, you had plenty of time to grow and catch up. And most twins are a little small when they are born anyway."

"Oh."

"Of course, there aren't just 2 different colors of traits." Sarah said, continuing her little lesson. "Anyone not related to you would have traits that are different than yours. The more different they look, compared to you, the more radical the difference in traits. And no one has traits that are all one color, because their parents were made of the same mixing of colors and traits, so everyone is really made up of hundreds of colors. And hundreds of traits too" she added, realizing that her demonstration with 10 traits wasn't exactly the best representation of it. So she grabbed more clay, just making little different colored balls.

"This is one person," she stared lining up 30 or so of the little balls, in 7 different colors. "And this is person number 2," she continuing, making another chain, the same except for 3 of the ball, which she switched out for different colors. "And this," she quickly made another chain, wildly different from the first," would be person number 3." She looked up at them. "So who would make the best pair of parents?"

"Ummm..." "Person 1-" "-and Person 2?"

"Wrong! 1 and 3, or 2 and 3 would make much better couples. More variety of traits, healthier kids. Any kids 1 and 2 would have would likely be deformed, or disabled somehow. Inbreeding, you know?"

"What's inbreeding?" She stared, more than a little disturbed.

"You don't know what inbreeding is? Marrying people in your family- not direct family" she clarified, seeing the grossed out looks on their faces. "That's incest, and there are psychological controls to keep that from happening, I'll explain those later. No, inbreeding is marrying distant family, normally cousins. First, second, or third cousins having kids together risk all sorts of problems in their children, though once you hit fourth cousins, there usually isn't any problem..." she trailed off, staring at their horrified faces. "Fuck, you guys are screwed."

* * *

Sarah surveyed the so-called 'Grand Hall' with a critical eye. _I suppose the ceiling is rather nice._ she thought, _But the overall effect isn't particularly 'Great'. The candles are a fire hazard, since I doubt there's anyone here who could extinguish them all in one go, should the need arise. And despite the attempts to look intimidating- and it's a school, for Hecate's sake! it should be welcoming, not intimidating- it's got NOTHING on Uncle Jareth's throne room, let alone the Pavilion of Sorrows back in Avalon. Now THAT place is frickin' intimidating._

She glanced over at The Twins, as she mentally referred to them, since she couldn't be bothered to expend the extra effort to identify them half the time. After her explanation back on the train, they sat in rather awkward silence for an hour or so. After the lady with the snack cart (she refused to call it a trolley) came and left, they had reanimated and the 3 spent the rest of the ride swapping stories. They explained the mechanics of Hogwarts, and she, trying to make up for the trauma she inflicted on them, regaled them with tales of the USA, as well as various Muggle inventions. She might not _like_ people, but she didn't want to be completely alone for the 7 years she would spend here.

"Cerezo, Sarah!" Oh, that was her. Huh. She walked up to the front. She had been so lost in thought, she had lost track of what was going on, and as such, had no idea what she was expected to do. She though fast as she approached the ragged hat on the stool. _The Twins said I had to put it on, right? And then it tells me where to go. But the thing probably has lice...ewww. They've GOT to have spells or something to keep it clean..._ Taking a deep breath, she stuck the hat on her head, and sat down.

/_Whats this? Barriers? In one so young? And so strong too. Well, child, you will have to let me in in order to Sort you/_

_The hell I'm letting you into my mind! You have no right to my private thoughts and memories!_

_/Quite a temper, Gryffindor, perhaps. How am I to tell where you will fit best, if I've no idea what you are like./_

_Did it ever occur to you to ASK?_

_/...errrr/_

_Stupid wizards. Well, my name is Sarah, I'm from the United States, and my mother has thrown me out of the house more than once to get me to stop reading and go make friends. I'm sarcastic and cannot stand idiots. I will commit unspeakable acts in the name of procuring good books, and I have also read both the dictionary and the thesaurus. Is that enough to sort me?_

_/Yes/ _the hat chuckled in her head _/that's more than enough./_

"RAVENCLAW!"

Sarah removed the hat, set it gentle down on the stool, and hurried to the table politely applauding her. Settling on the bench, she once more drifted off into her own thoughts, ignoring both her housemates and the others being sorted. She absently noted that the Twins got into Gryffindor, and that the food appeared on the plates, magically. Sighing, she surveyed the rather gruesome choices. Was there anything that _wasn't_ fried of drowning in grease? Eventually, she settled on shepherd's pie, however annoying it was to pick out the vegetables in it. However, she refused to drink the thick orange goop in her goblet, and got one of the older students to Vanish the contents and refill the cup with water. She sighed again. This was going to be hell.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two:**

Enya,

Kill me now, this place has no technology! No cellphones, no internet! Even if I got enough batteries, the magic here will prevent anything from working! Which is why I have enclosed my two laptops. The big one is what my parents sent me off with for hw and staying in touch with. The mini, I bought in Muggle (the wizards here call non-magical people that, i def. prefer the American 'mundane' better, less racist sounding) London while getting my school supplies, so don't tell my parents!

You are honor bound as my favorite cousin, and my Minion Assissticant, to give the laptops to your dad to enchant. What's wrong with wizards here? Back home, we shape spells to _boost_ technology, to help the mundanes. Here, wizards made their magic interfere with technology, to keep themselves in the Dark Ages. Apparently, the 'Pureblood Aristocracy' is all inbred. So your dad needs to make my laptops actually work, and ask him for spells to connect to WiFi miles away, please?

You're in charge of getting me my Google back. Danni's getting me DVDs so I can start getting these people up to speed with pop culture, and Jess is raiding bookstores for textbooks for me. Purebloods only learn to read, write, and basic math (addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division) and biology (they know most of the organs and their functions). Hogwarts only teaches magic, and even the Muggleborns stop learning useful things once they attend. There's no way for them to continue their normal education during the summers, and none of the even try, not even here in the House for geniuses.

So, I'm starting a mini school to try and beat common sense into these idiots' heads. So, no free time for awhile, but it's not like I'll have the internet to miss or anything...

Your Fave Cousin,

Saraid

p.s. can't wait 'til my 12th b-day! i want my Crow familiar so bad! these owls are both stupid and conspicuous. owls during the day? honestly...

Dear Mom and Dad,

My first week of classes were okay. The stuff's pretty easy, between meditation and magic theory lessons since I could walk, so I'm wowing all my teachers by getting most, if not all, spells on the first go.

Potions, being so much like Chemistry, is easy, and would be a lot more fun if it weren't for the teacher, who really shouldn't teach. Don't get me wrong, he's obviously brilliant, but equally obvious is his hatred for children. Transfiguration is fairly easy, but the teacher is really strict, and she won't let me read in class, even if I've finished my work. Defense Against the Dark Arts is the most fun class, considering it's the only real practical magic taught here. The teacher adores me, but that's probably because I already know how to defend myself, and unlike the students, he didn't consider me kicking my dueling partner in the balls to be cheating. Idiots.

Charms and Herbology are both boring. I can do all the charms with Fae magic already, and it's way more convenient that way. And Herbology is a little boring, considering how much time I've spent in Grandma Danu's gardens. But the worst class is History of Magic. The teacher's a ghost, which is just stupid, and all he talks about is the Goblin Wars, which I know more of than he (and you said spending my summers in the Underground with Aunt Sarah and Uncle Jareth was pointless...). The only thing worse than HoM is Astronomy. They have to schedule the class at night, obviously, but then expect the kids to attend normal classes the next day. I don't think so. So if you receive letters saying I haven't attended, well, don't worry. I will probably have a more thorough understanding of the stars than the rest of the class, seeing as back during my sci-fi phase I was determined to catalog the stars myself to try and find aliens, and then during my occult phase I dug out those notes again to interpret them...

Also, I DO have friends, thank you very much. A pair of twins, Fred and George Weasley.

With Love,  
Saraid

Enya,

Enclosed is 3 pounds of chocolate, as a thank you for reconnecting me to the internet. And my Sims, I have now recreated my entire House, and frequently kill and torture them since I would be expelled if I took my frustrations out on the idiots themselves. For being a bunch of geniuses, they're awfully slow to catch onto what I'm trying to teach them. Trigonometry isn't _that _hard...

Anywhosle, Fred and George (i told you about them, right) have been bugging me for more prank ideas. I do believe I shall teach them how to make smoke bombs. Which recipe should i use?

-Saraid

En,

Don't you like my pretty bird? Mom finally got me my 'official' familiar, as if Morrighan doesn't count. Anyway, meet Aakesh. He's a rather odd crow, all things considered. He isn't particularly interested in shiny stuff, but he LOVES dive bombing people. And I love him to bits.

My mom mentioned in her last letter something about an explosion in your school. One involving pure sodium being poured down a sink drain. Since I recall mentioning such things to you earlier this year, I was understandably worried. So now you have to come clean. Did you get pictures? ^-^

Oh, on the topic of explosions, I thought you'd be interested to hear that I haven't lost my touch and am still capable of terrifying people twice my size. And age. Apparently wizards are so useless, an eleven year old girl with two months of kickboxing under her belt (and I mean just kickboxing, I used none of the other stuff we learned) is capable of beating the crap out of sixteen year olds. Of course, they stole one of my books, so they were facing the rage of a thwarted bookworm, but still! Oh, not that you really care, but I have the majority of my House educated to the level of Muggle freshmen, with the Muggleborn students closer to the level of juniors. I'm also starting to introduce the Pureblood to various movies. Which should I start with? Star Wars? or Rocky Horror Picture Show? *snerk*

-Saraid


End file.
